


Ideal Grace

by blessedharlot



Series: Poems To Love By [2]
Category: The Great Library Series - Rachel Caine
Genre: Awkward First Times, Birth Control, F/M, First Time (Kind of), Masturbation, PIV Sex, Porn with Feelings, Post Smoke and Iron, Sex, Smut, Voyeurism, don't let them hear us, grief management after character death, look i adore sweet awkward sexytimes, quick write, sex mess management
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-30 01:28:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18305384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blessedharlot/pseuds/blessedharlot
Summary: The Feast of Greater Burning was a long damn day for everybody. Jess and Morgan sensibly pursue some sexual healing.Note of Pedantry: In all likelihood both of these characters are 17 years old at this time, which is commonly the age of consent. But I've got the archive warning on here just to be clear it's young kids sexin it up.





	Ideal Grace

Morgan had no idea what she would have done, had Wolfe not made his offer. 

She’d spent a fair bit of the time after the battle wracking her brain for accommodations -- and even slipped away to ask Glain what High Garda quarters they could borrow. But the best she had to offer Jess for the night was still the Iron Tower. 

And what the Tower offered in physical amenities, it lacked thoroughly in emotional comfort. Jess would never last the night there without slipping away - certainly not tonight.

And that was her biggest worry - that he’d need to crawl out of his skin so bad, he’d do something stupid in the process. Like slip away alone, unguarded, distressed and thinking poorly… without even that reckless mess of a brother to watch his back now.

Morgan should think kinder of Brendan now, she suspected. She would try.

But in the meantime, she’d stick close to Jess as long as it took to get his head back on straight. No matter what end that brought… to Zara Cole, the old Archivist, or any of them.

She sat at Wolfe and Santi’s dining table, alone, and tried to file the rough edges off her steel determination to keep Jess safe. She deliberately pressed her shoulders further down away from her ears. The heat from the shower had helped; all three of the men had insisted she go first, and Jess was finishing up now behind her.

As the sounds of Jess toweling off drifted in from the bathroom, she examined the bedsheets Santi had spread for them across the foldout couch. Her eyes passed over the bookshelves in the front room, and one more time she thought about pulling a blank and finding a story to offer Jess to read.

But once again, Morgan decided not to. She certainly wanted him to feel he could manage - or avoid - his pain tonight. But more than that, she wanted him to feel loved as well.

She had plans that didn’t involve reading. So she turned down enough glows for the light to support her intentions.

Soon Jess was leaving the bathroom in a borrowed pair of running shorts - Morgan had at least managed to find them extra High Garda clothes to change into - and he immediately came to sit next to her at the table.

“Hey,” Morgan said, grasping the hand Jess put in hers and stroking his damp hair. “Feeling any cleaner?”

“Sort of,” Jess said.

“There’s still bread and salami on the counter in there, from what Santi pulled out for us. If you want to eat anything else.”

“Not hungry.”

Jess clung to her wherever he touched her, but couldn’t seem to decide whether to close his eyes or not. He looked uncomfortable in his chair, but didn’t try to fix it.

Morgan stroked his hair again and thought it was time to try and help.

“Come here,” she said, and she moved them both to the bed. As they sat, she wrapped Jess in her arms and put her face close to his. For a moment they just breathed in each other’s breath.

“I’m sorry about all the arguing I’ve done today,” Jess said. 

“You don’t have to apologize for that, Jess,” Morgan said, but he didn’t seem to hear.

“You were right,” he continued. “It’s not time to go after them yet. We’re not ready. I just…”

“You’re angry and sad. And you wanted to do something.”

Jess sighed heavily.

“I can’t tell whether I should try to think more, or less,” he said quietly. “My head feels numb and overfull, all at once.”

“How about thinking very intently about something different than the day’s events? Something pleasant?”

Jess gave a tiny grin. “Did you have something in mind?” 

“Yes, actually,” Morgan smiled, and hoped her eyes twinkled at him. 

Then she didn’t want to give him any more time to think. She took his face in her hands and kissed him, deeply. He responded slowly but warmly. Every impulse about Jess that she’d had all day - to dote on him, to keep him still, to get him to talk, to get him to stop talking, to heal his wounds - she poured them all into her kiss. 

He was so tired - exhausted, really - but he subtly opened to every touch, every moment of attention. 

Until they heard the water start in the bathroom, and Jess froze.

“They’re still… uh...” Jess trailed off.

“They’ve got their own door to the bathroom, remember? They’re in seclusion for the night,” Morgan said.

Jess seemed to struggle for words. “We don’t have a door,” he said.

“I very much doubt they’ll bother us. I think they’ve decided we need our space,” Morgan said with a smile.

“I just… don’t want you to feel intruded on.” 

“I mean, they have to know what we might be up to in here. I suspect if they’re not too tired, they might be up to something similar.”

Jess huffed quietly in amusement. “I was alone with them in their bedroom in England for five minutes. They’ll find the energy for something, I’m sure.”

“Okay, I don’t need to picture that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Does that bother you? If they’re happy-”

“Oh they’re definitely happy together, and I’m delighted. It’s beautiful how devoted they are to each other. And if they’re still affectionate after this many years, then I’m thrilled. I would wish as much. I just… people’s sex lives are their own and I don’t need to be involved. And vice versa, quiet thoroughly.”

“That makes sense, considering.”

Morgan worried what he thought for an instant. “Do you think I’m a prude?”

Jess blinked at her slowly. “No. I think you’ve had to fight like the devil for privacy, and you don’t take it for granted. Like maybe some of us do.”

Morgan saw something like awe in his eyes.

“It’s why I worry,” Jess said, “that you might not want to do anything here but-”

Instead of talking more, she leaned in and kissed him again. This time she ran her hands further down his chest, his arms. And as soon as he was kissing back, she reached for her own shirt and started to pull it up.

Jess responded by reaching for the blankets and ushering her underneath. He held himself up by his arms and she nestled herself beneath him. 

One by one, they helped each other pull off articles of clothing and throw them out from their cozy embrace under the blankets. Then they were once again warm and naked, pressed against each other. It felt more like home than anything Morgan could imagine.

The running water stopped in the bathroom again. 

Morgan realized this was the most that she and Jess had touched without him having an erection. She wondered how much was their lack of privacy, and how much was the whole miserable day.

Jess tucked his head into the crook of her neck and began kissing her there, and she shivered in joy.

“Jess.”

“Hmm.”

“I’ve been… practicing. What I talked about, at the castle.”

Jess stopped kissing her and very obviously had to make an effort to listen to what she was saying.

“You mean about... um. Protection?”

“Yes. And I… I eventually spoke with someone, too. Annis. The conversation was a bit torturous.” Morgan felt her eyes roll inadvertently. “But useful. There’s definitely ways that I can keep myself from getting pregnant when I don’t want to. And with no interference, it should be very simple and easy to do.”

Jess stared at her. Morgan wished she wasn’t so aware of the shower starting in the next room again. Four showers, this should be the last.

“So…” Morgan said. “If you wanted to… I mean. There’s... there’s what we didn’t do in England. Because I wasn’t sure. We could do that now.”

“Right, yes.” Jess stared intently, now worrying one of his hands back and forth across one little patch of her waist. 

Her heart skipped a beat when she felt his erection begin to press against her thigh. 

“Does it…” he tried to say. “Is it difficult? The thing you have to do?”

“No. I’ll need a bit of energy from you is all. But it shouldn’t be painful for you. Nothing like that. Just probably a bit tiring when you’re already so tired.” She caressed his cheek with one hand.

“Do it,” he said urgently. “If you… do you want to?”

“Yes,” she said quickly.

“Do it now,” he said in a thick voice.

Morgan pulled her hands away from him, and put them on her own pelvis. She shifted her head into that space she needed, and did what Annis had instructed. 

She felt a kernel of energy leave Jess, and settle into her. But instead of him wavering from the draw in any way, the sensation seemed to invigorate him. His eyes were brighter, and his breathing sped up, and his arms braced his weight on either side of him even more firmly than they had.

The shower stopped for what Morgan very much hoped was the last of the sounds they’d hear from other rooms. She was done trying to keep a reassuring front for Jess, and just wanted to forget everyone else’s sex and get on with theirs.

Jess was helping by being very distracting. He leaned down, and for the first time initiated a kiss. Their lips had a new fire on them, and Morgan threaded her fingers into his hair and let herself get lost in him.

He curled down beside her and they lay side by side, kissing deeply. Jess had one hand underneath her head, wrapped in her hair, and another exploring up and down her body -- slowly caressing down her arms, then up her back. As his hand reached down the front of her, cupping her breast, she gasped in delight.

Then she realized she’d made a plan for this very moment that she wasn’t following in the slightest.

By now, he was usually well past ready for his first climax. Not that they’d had much experience for her to extrapolate a ‘usual’ from yet -- they’d had a grand total of three beautiful nights to themselves at the awful Fortress Brightwell. But there was an established pattern so far - he came fast and first, and then lasted a second time well beyond giving her lots of attention. 

The trouble was, she’d already decided that she did not want to make a mess here that would have to be explained to their hosts. So she’d planned to catch his first orgasm in her mouth.

All of this occurred to her instantly as she felt wet warmth against her belly. She pressed herself to him, and rolled on top.

“That was… unexpected,” Jess gasped.

“Remember your promise, Jess Brightwell.” Morgan gave up on complete discretion and aimed for subtle management. She reached for a pillow, tugging the fabric cover off of it. Maybe she could hide it from them until she washed the sheets.

“I’m not allowed to apologize for that.”

“Oh no. You find me irresistably hot. It’s so tragic.”

“Okay, okay, I get it.”

She took the pillowcase and tugged it between them.

“Just help me not have to sleep in a wet spot,” she giggled.

“Fair enough,” he replied, and he put a hand to the pillowcase, cleaning them both up.

“Now what should we do next?” She asked. “The other thing?”

“I need a little time,” Jess said. “What about the other thing we talked about?”

“The… oh,” Morgan blushed.

“What? Why so shy about this? How is it different than anything else we’ve done?”

“Because you’d be staring at me! It’s...weird.”

“It’s scholarly research,” he said. “I’d be studying a self-pleasuring Morgan in the wild, to understand her habits better.”

“That’s not even a little bit sexy,” she said with a wry frown.

He tossed the pillowcase aside and threw his arms around her, holding her tight against his chest.

“I… want to know… how you pleasure yourself. You said you did it. You said you’ve done it for years. I want to watch. I’ll learn something that we’ll both appreciate for years to come, I guarantee it.”

Morgan huffed and squirmed off of him to land on her back on the mattress. 

Just then she thought she heard a moan that her brain decided without her permission may well have been from Santi.

She huffed again and put her hands to her face.

Jess rolled to his side to meet her, and put his mouth up to her ear. He spoke in the tiniest whisper possible. “So you’re alone by yourself.”

She dropped her hands from her face to realize that the blanket had fallen away from her chest. She felt exposed, and vulnerable, and her heart raced to an unexpected pace. 

“Nobody else around anywhere,” he continued quietly. “And you want to feel good.”

Before she could consider bringing the blanket up to her neck, Jess raised his hand to hover above her breast, curving around the air just above her skin - caressing the air - without touching her. He was blocking her from covering herself too.

“All alone. What do you do?” he softly asked.

Morgan tried to steady herself with a long breath, and put her own hand to her breast. She squeezed, and squeezed again, suddenly aware that she actually had a usual rhythm, as she did it now in front of Jess.

She pulled her nipple between her fingers for just an instant, and then gripped the flesh again, feeling a moan escape her lips. She looked to see Jess staring intently at everything she was doing - not touching her, not interfering. Just watching carefully, licking his lips. Her face got burning hot under his gaze, and her heart raced even more, beating in her ears. 

If this was what he wanted, this is what she’d do. 

“The pillowcase,” she realized. “Put it under my hips.”

“Yeah?” Jess reached for it.

“Yeah.”

She arched her hips up off the bed, and he stopped cold, mouth agape at the outline of her raised thighs through the blankets.

“Jess!”

“Yes!” he said, moving again to quickly position the pillowcase under her.

She brought her hips back down, took another deep breath and brought her unoccupied hand to her neck, tugging on her earlobe and her hair. She pulled the hand away that had worked her breast and ran it between her thighs.

Jess gasped and reached for the blankets. Morgan thought she would die if he pulled them down to expose her entirely -- she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep going. But he seemed to understand, and lifted them only enough to get an idea what she was doing. He was chewing his bottom lip at this point, a look of rapture on his face.

Morgan panted, and parted her heat. She thrust two fingers inside quickly, repeatedly, and then brought that wetness to her button.

At that point she had to stop thinking about what she was doing. She rested her gaze on Jess as he crouched beside her, naked - erect again - and so attentive to her every move. She felt he was cataloguing her, and she realized she very much liked being pinned down by his gaze in particular. 

She dropped her focus on her hands or her body, and just focused on him - on his eyes, on his erection - and reached for the wave that she found tugging her toward her goal. 

One hand worked between her legs, and the other stroked her neck and her chest. She felt herself arch and lick her lips and delight under Jess’ gaze. 

She felt the soft buzzy pressure growing in her belly and her legs, and her eyes closed for a moment here and there, to keep herself right on the edge of that wave as it arched its long way to shore. She felt Jess come closer, adding his body heat to hers, and when she gasped, she felt his hand move to cover her mouth. He leaned in close and smiled an exquisite smile, then turned to keep watching her hand and she lost track of everything else and pitched into an orgasm.

The climax was so intense, she braced herself against the bed. Once she’d moved her hand away, she felt Jess touch that hand to his cheek, his hands around her face, his warmth holding her steady as she shuddered and floated her way back down from where she’d gone. 

Still high, she reached for him and urged him on top of her.

Jess looked deep into her eyes, and shifted himself between her thighs. 

They didn’t try to speak. Morgan reached down for his cock and moved it into place. Then she gathered him up in her arms and as they embraced, he slipped inside of her.

Morgan felt so much at once, she thought she’d burst. But Jess was there, and she held a beautiful fire in her, and then they were moving together and it was sheer bliss.

Jess searched her face with a look in his eyes she’d never seen. She wanted to keep seeing it forever. For she didn’t know how long, there was only his breath and hers, and the two of them in the whole world.

She’d lost track of time, of where they were, of how long they’d been coupled. Jess’ breath quickened and he began to struggle with his position, until she took his hips and pressed him as deeply and as firmly into her as she could. With that permission, he let go, and as she held his face close to hers, he gulped air and thrust until he couldn’t thrust any more. 

Then Morgan held him while his breath returned to normal. 

He slid to her side, her head on his chest, and they stayed in each others arms for the longest time. Morgan savored his smell, his skin against hers, his heartbeat, and the feeling of safety in the house.

She looked up to his face, and found him gazing back. She couldn’t read the look on his face.

“What?” Morgan asked.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Morgan looked away and smiled.

“I wish I had beautiful ways to tell you that,” he continued.

“You mean like poetry? About how beautiful I am? That’s sounds very… Dario.”

“Well let’s not do that, then.”

“Some other topic.”

“How beautiful I am?” He offered with a smile.

“I… don’t think I know any poems like that. How about how much I love you?”

“That sounds nice.”

“‘How do I love thee?’” Morgan began. “‘Let me count the ways.’”

“Oh, that one! Where does that come from, anyway?”

“It’s a sonnet. By Elizabeth Barrett Browning.”

“Mm, girl poet.”

“What does that mean?” She giggled.

“Nothing, it’s just nice. Not enough of them, are there? All the boys talking about war and boats and horses and such, gets dull enough.”

“You’re very romantic, Jess Brightwell.”

“I’m sorry, poetry is never going to be my strong suit. But it can certainly be yours.”

“We’ll see.”

“So count them,” Jess said.

“Count what?”

“The ways you love me. Your poem.”

“Ohh,” Morgan said, giggling. “‘I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach, when feeling out of sight for the ends of being and ideal grace.’”

“That’s a lot.”

“‘I love thee to the level of every day’s most quiet need.’” Morgan paused at the resonance of the words tonight.

Jess breath hitched just a bit. “Ohhh,” he replied.

“‘By sun and candle-light.’”

He smiled.

“‘I love thee freely, as men strive for right,’” she said. “‘I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.’”

“Not too pure, please.”

“Hush. ‘I love thee with the passion put to use in my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose with my lost saints.’”

Jess met her gaze at that. Morgan thought about what she’d lost that she loved from her own childhood, and tears pricked at her eyes. She hadn’t thought of this poem in some time. The words had even more meaning now.

“‘I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life,’” she said.

She felt a lump in her throat, and Jess’ eyes shone.

“‘And, if God choose-’”

She stopped, and couldn’t keep going.

“If God choose what?” Jess asked.

Morgan blushed, a bit ashamed she’d been so thoughtless.

“It has something to do with death, doesn’t it?” Jess asked.

Morgan nodded.

“Say it anyway,” Jess said.

“‘If God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.’”

Jess smiled a rather delirious smile. “That’s nice,” he said. “All of it.” Then he chuckled. “Some of us are probably easier to love after death, don’t you think?”

“Don’t say that,” Morgan said, without heat.

Jess pursed his lips together. “I was… not thinking of myself. Mostly.”

Morgan looked long and hard at him, then played a hunch.

“Jess. You don’t have to figure out tonight how much of you is left and how much of you is gone.”

Jess looked at her as though she’d suddenly named a deep secret of his.

“You can take some time,” Morgan said, and swallowed hard. “I’ll be here until then.”

He gave her a long look.

“I’m not going anywhere. Tonight, I mean,” Jess said. “I know you’re worried.”

Morgan chewed the inside of her cheek. She didn’t have anything to say in response, so she took a deep breath of relief and released it with a sigh.

“I’m not… how I thought I’d be,” he said. “I don’t know… I don’t know how to do this.”

“You don’t have to know yet. We’ll figure it out.”

Jess nodded.

“Together,” she said.

He nodded again. “Let’s go to sleep. I might… I might sleep.”

She reached up and kissed him again. Then he pulled the blanket closer and they settled into each other’s arms again. She thought they might both sleep tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> This includes: my best guesses at what Morgan would call body parts; my best guess at how much talking they've done about sex, which I suspect could easily be counted by the sentence; my best guesses at constructing a sexuality for a 17 year old young man with presumably almost zero exposure to porn in this universe of drastically different media; and a bit of headcanon on Obscurist skills. Among other things that get me to sweet awkward sexins.


End file.
